


A Merciful Death

by diethope



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: F/F, also sharena dies but its fine, also the lore is mostly garbage i made up so i gotta post this now before canon invalidates it, its an AU that takes place during Book II if that wasn't clear, other characters will be added if i continue, semi-graphic descriptions of burn wounds, theres some light gore i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diethope/pseuds/diethope
Summary: Sharena dies in a stranger's arms. They don't call Eir "merciful death" for nothing.





	A Merciful Death

Eir liked to venture out into the fringes of Hel, where the border between the kingdom of the dead and Askr became blurred, and rainbow colored wildflowers bloomed under a smokey grey sky. It was rare for anyone else to be there. The barrier erected shortly after Eir’s birth meant that none of the living could venture this close to Hel, and the otherwise featureless nature of the landscape meant that the dead rarely visited, either. 

It was a good place to be alone. More often than not, the only intruders to Eir’s personal playground were the wandering dead. The lost dead-- spirits not drawn straight to Hel, but instead, for a variety of reasons, capable of lingering on the edge. If left alone, they would either enter Hel of their own volition, or fade away. Those that faded usually went on to another realm, but Eir knew that sometimes they could return to life, having come a hair’s breadth away from passing on forever. 

Eir left them alone whenever possible. Usually, they returned the favor and never acknowledged her presence. She felt lucky when they did. The ones that tried to interact with her were always the worst.

On the day that Sharena died, Eir was practicing the steps to a dance that her tutor had taught her. In life, her tutor had been from Nifl, and so the dance was of a sweeping, elegant style that had been popular in Nifl several centuries ago. It required a partner, but Eir didn’t mind being alone, and had decided to practice the man’s steps, because they were more intricate. 

She noticed Sharena right away. Eir went into a spin, and as she rotated back into starting position, she saw that there was someone in the field with her that had not been there a moment before. This was not unusual, really. Most wandering spirits appeared suddenly, seeming to condense out of the mist. 

Eir didn’t even pause in her dancing. Her policy was always, always to not initiate contact. The spirit would sort itself out without her doing anything eventually. As she went into another spin, however, Eir caught the smell of charred flesh on the wind. 

_Oh god, I hate fiery deaths_ , Eir thought, briefly closing her eyes. _Please, let the spirit pass quickly._

The next thing that Eir heard, however, was the sound of booted feet rushing towards her, and the smell of burned skin and cloth hit her nose. She had no choice but to cease her dancing and watch as the dead soldier came her way. It was a women, and as she came closer, Eir could see how she died. Her entire chest was nearly ash. Charred, cracked flesh barely concealed the white ribs underneath, and on her arms, which seemed to have been hit less directly, the clothing and armor had burned away, leaving the mangled flesh underneath to practically drip off the bone. In her hand, she clenched a golden spear, charred and broken.

The women’s face, however, was largely untouched, save for several clumps of blackened blonde hair. She had blue eyes, brighter than any wildflower that Eir had ever seen, and when she came close enough, Eir could see she was smiling.

“Hey!” she called out, her cheerful voice ringing out over the otherwise empty field. She stopped, a scant few feet away, and asked, “I’m so sorry to bother your dancing, but could you tell me where we are? I seem to be a little lost.” She laughed then, like she wasn’t more bones than flesh. Like she didn’t realize she was very, very dead.

Eir didn’t know what to say. She felt like she was being pinned under the woman’s playful gaze, because people so rarely looked at her that way.

Eir didn’t want to say anything. She felt, stupidly, like if she remained quiet, the women before her still had some chance of going away and heading back to the world of the living, where her life had clearly been cut cruelly short. She couldn’t be any older than Eir herself. 

At Eir’s silence, Sharena frowned, ever so slightly. “I really truly am sorry to have bothered you, but you see, my friends and I were in the middle of an important battle and--”

All at once, things seemed to catch up with her. Sharena’s face set itself into grim determination, and she continued, saying, “Please! I need to get back to them! Their lives are in danger as we speak!”

Eir looked pointedly at the women’s chest. She would rather stare at her decimated flesh than look her in the eyes. She didn’t want to speak, but she couldn’t bare to hear the woman begging. “I’m sorry. It seems you’re already dead. You can’t help them.”

The realization seemed to hit the women like a truck. Her eyes went wide, and then fell shut, and Eir got the feeling she was reliving the moment of her death.

“I pushed Kiran out of the way of Surtr’s flames,” she whispered, after a moment of the most tense silence Eir had endured in a long time. “Fensalir had already been broken, and I didn’t know what else to do so I--”

Eir didn’t want to hear any more. Princess of death she might be, but she was rarely confronted with the true ugliness of death. All those she interacted with were already long dead. 

Both fortunately and unfortunately, Eir didn’t have to hear anymore of the women’s words, because she moaned in pain and nearly collapsing as her legs blackened and burned right before Eir’s eyes. The stench of burning flesh was overpowering, and Sharena clutched at her broken spear like a walking stick so that she could even stay slightly upright. 

Eir realized, horridly, that Sharena was, impossibly, still alive. Her spirit, tethered to her body miles away, was feeling the effect of some new injury. If she had had any chance of being revived, Eir felt is was long passed now.

“Oh gods, it hurts,” Sharena cried, as she finally gave up and let her legs give out from underneath her. They were little more than bone and molten metal from her leg armor anyways. 

Tears had started to gather at the corner of her bright blue eyes, and Eir reflexively took a step back. 

“Please, don’t leave me here alone,” the women said, looking up at Eir with the most pitiful stare she had ever seen.

After that, Eir knew she wouldn’t be able to walk away. She didn’t know what she would do, exactly, but she wouldn’t leave. She didn’t have it in her to disregard a dying woman's last request.

Slowly, and with uncertainty written all over her face, Eir gathered her skirts around her so that she could knee in the grass in front of Sharena. At this level, the two of them were surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers, but even their strong scent wasn’t enough to overpower the smell of fiery death. 

“Thank you,” the woman said, breathing it out like a sigh of relief. 

Eir cleared her throat, trying not to breathe to deeply, and asked, “May I have your name?”

For a brief moment, the women’s eyes lit up again, and Eir couldn’t help but be dazzled by them. “Sharena, Princess of Askr,” she replied, her pride in her kingdom evident from the way she introduced herself. 

Sharena’s smile faded quickly, to be replaced by a grimace as her multitude of wounds seemed to catch up with her. “Can I hold your hand?” she asked, her voice once again quiet, almost pleading. 

Wordlessly, Eir held out her hand. Sharena took it, and her grip was strong enough to nearly crush Eir’s slim fingers. But Eir didn’t complain, instead choosing to marvel at the fact that, despite everything, Sharena’s hand still felt pleasantly warm. 

“Your dancing really was beautiful. It reminded me of a friend of mine. . .” Sharena began, only to train off as her gaze became lost. 

“It was nothing special, really,” Eir said, uncertain of how to reply, so she stuck with what she knew best: self-depreciation.  
The words broke Sharena out of her stupor, for a moment. “You’ve clearly been practicing, so it must be something special to _you_ ,” she insisted. 

“I suppose it is,” Eir admitted, flushing ever so slightly. Sharena laughed at the sight of Eir’s blush, which was especially evident on her too-pale face, but was cut off abruptly as she clutched at the remains of her chest with her free hand. 

Impossibly, her grip on Eir’s hand seemed to tighten, and she curled into herself, whimpering in pain. Doubled over, Sharena’s head was practically in Eir’s lap. Her hair had a light dusting of soot over it, muting its color, but Eir imagined that when it was clean, Sharena’s hair was stunning. She had the sudden desire to see that hair in the sunlight. 

When Sharena gave no sign of recovering from her fit, Eir tentatively reached out and wrapped her free arm around Sharena’s shoulders. 

With the last vestiges of her strength, Sharena pulled herself forward so that she could bury her face into Eir’s chest. Eir let her, and found that, suddenly, Sharena was in her lap.

It was not comfortable to have a woman, whose body was half ash and molten flesh, dying in her arms, but as Eir felt Sharena’s body shake with muted sobs, she couldn’t imagine pulling away. She was blown away, in that moment, by how strongly Sharena must be clinging to life. It would be better if she just gave up, so that her suffering could end. 

Eir felt herself involuntarily stiffen. She knew what she had to do. If Sharena entered Hel, she would never be able to return to the world of the living as a member of the living herself. She was die, and her suffering would be over. 

Bracing herself, Eir managed to pry her hand out of Sharena’s death grip and slid it underneath the remains of her legs. With her other arm still around her shoulder, Eir stood up, lifting Sharena into her arms. 

Eir wasn’t strong, but Sharena was little more than bones, and with the Askran princess in her arms, Eir walked back into Hel.


End file.
